Hardly The Sharks and The Jets
by MsAnimanga
Summary: It's movie night, and Maura has picked West Side Story. The film brings out some insecurities in Jane. For Day 19 of my Rizzoli and Isles Season 2 Drabble Countdown Challenge.


**********This was written for my Season 2 Countdown Challenge, the prompt was "West Side Story". ********I have never seen West Side Story. I asked my aunt to give me a synopsis [on the film, I believe], and between "ums" and random singing, I gathered a general idea and only felt safe lightly referencing it. So, if this is a mess, blame my aunt. Crazy runs in the family. I apologize profusely if I ruined your favorite musical/film. If you are equally in the dark about West Side Story, the fic should still make sense. I hope. **

Movie nights with Maura sometimes meant watching a musical. Tonight's musical of choice was West Side Story, and Maura's jaw had dropped when Jane sheepishly admitted that she had never seen it before. As much as it pained Jane to admit, she actually liked musicals. Sometimes. She actually liked them a lot more when she watched them with Maura, but that was most likely because Maura spoke of them so highly and enjoyed them so much. She was looking forward to a new one, and one that Maura apparently liked very much.

Jane was particularly fidgety throughout tonight's entertainment, and she sighed pointedly as the musical ended.

"Geez…I'm glad you don't have a brother." Jane commented, yawning and taking the bowl of popcorn into the kitchen.

Maura pursed her lips, waiting for the detective to elaborate. After several beats of silence, the ME followed her into the kitchen and stood against the counter, watching as the brunette stared blankly into the refrigerator.

"You should know what you're looking for before you open it, you know. It saves energy, and…" Maura frowned when the detective simply closed the refrigerator door, nodding. Jane would usually argue or make some snarky remark- something was off.

"What do you mean, Jane? Why are you glad that I don't have a brother?"

"I was joking,.." Jane smiled halfheartedly, only to drop her lips into a frown at the knowing raised eyebrow that Maura shot her. She would have to remind herself not to do that around the ME so much, she was picking up too many useful expressions.

"I only half meant it, okay? It's just…I already have trouble convincing your parents that I'm right for you, you know? It was a joke." Jane shrugged, opening the refrigerator again and refusing to look Maura in the eye.

"Jane, our families are hardly the Sharks and the Jets." Maura shook her head, following Jane's logic but questioning the extent of the correlation between their lives and the musical.

"Yeah, but your dad is a mob boss…" Jane noted gently, grimacing when the ME flinched.

"Hey, hey, I didn't mean..damn, I'm sorry if I struck a nerve, Maur, I was only kidding again. You know how I deal…" Jane went to shove her hands in her pockets, only to find that her sleeping shorts didn't have any. She settled for gripping the refrigerator handle and running the other through her hair.

"It's fine, Jane, I know that you didn't mean anything by it. Something tells me that Doyle is not the one that you're worried about, anyhow." Maura pulled Jane from her stainless steel shield, toward the bedroom. They settled on their respective sides of the bed wordlessly, Jane taking extra pains to adjust and readjust her pillow before finally sitting still.

"I just…I can't help but feel like that kid from the wrong side of the tracks, you know? Your mom all but killed me when I came to that dinner in my blazer…"

"Jane, she knows that you had been on call. She doesn't hold it against you. Her reaction was the same as mine would have been, had it been my dinner." Maura reached for Jane's hand, squeezing it lightly to reassure her.

"Exactly. If it had been your dinner, I would have embarrassed you. You would have been pissed and I'd have been sleeping on the couch with Joe." Jane frowned, looking at their hands and at Maura's gentle, elegant fingers.

"Jane, don't be ridiculous, I wouldn't put you out on the couch over a blazer. If you'd worn your work boots, hoever…' Jane scowled at Maura's attempt at a joke, dissolving into chuckles when she saw the small smile on the ME's face.

"We need to work on your punch lines, babe."

"I don't see how punching anyone would improve my…" Maura trailed off, earning another chuckle from the detective.

"We'll talk about that later. Anyway, I just feel kind of intimidated sometimes, you know? Like, I have to show my worth to people all over again. I do that on the job, and I've built myself up to the guys over the years, and now I have to show a whole different part of myself to your parents to get them to see that I'm not just some scruffy butch from the wrong side of town-"

"Jane, you are not a 'scruffy butch'. You are so much more than what you see yourself as. My parents love you, and yes, it may take some time for them to grow accustomed to your brazen ways, but…"

Maura stopped, searching for the words in her bank of commonly used phrases.

"But, they'll have to deal. I love you, Jane, and they know that. They know that I am not going to let a blazer, or a fish fiasco, or anything of the sort, keep me from being with you." Maura kissed Jane's hand gently, resuming her task of drawing circles on her palm with her thumb.

"You told them that you love me?" Jane all but whispered, grinning like a lovestruck teenager.

"Yes, sweetie, I did. So you can rest assured that no imagined issues of class- or race, height, fashion sense, or what have you- that you may have, will tear us apart." Maura smiled, turning off her bedside lamp and snuggling up to her detective.

"Thanks, Maura. I love you…and Ma loves you, Pop loves you, Frankie and Tommy love you… I think they like you more than they like me. You never have to worry about them, you know." Jane spoke into the dark, pulling Maura to her and pressing a gentle kiss to her neck.

"Darn, I was really looking forward to a showoff with Tommy." Maura giggled, earning a poke in the ribs from the detective.

"It's showdown, Maura. Come on, we need to sleep, tomorrow is gnocchi night." The giggles dissipated slowly, and Jane hummed "I Feel Pretty" until their breaths even out into slumbering sighs.


End file.
